In #RememberanceDayforLostSpecies I dedicated this blog, some 5 years, in an attempt to bring to attention of readers in Algeria in particular, where the Algerian Goldfinch is endangered.
I launched an SOS , like a message in a bottle into the sea:
Save the Algerian goldfinch!
When you write, who is watching you?
It’s true, that for a poet, he has his own muse, Erato, a musician his own muse it’s Melpomene, but Calliope, the muse for a writer, she never shows up when he needs her the most, she is whimsical at times. So we are always fascinated, in our quest, by the blanc of a page, waiting for the moment when inspiration strikes, and we forget to look around, to things that we treasures for the longest, they are witnesses of our moments in life, or some we lost, that is_
“Somewhere, those poor things must still be knocking about”__Constantine Cavafy
It has been in the traditions of to many countries, and their cultures as well , for the longest as we can go back in to the past, in the history of literature, in humanities, we find that people has an intimated affection for the goldfinch, in particular, either through the religious interpretation of icons, in Arts, like in Christianity, referring to biblical scriptures, or for the profane, in the folklore, and artisanal arts and crafts, in poetry, and in writing prose.
I had a photo of a pet, a Bird, The Goldfinch, that I took while I was in Algiers, I framed it and put it on top of a corner of the TV furniture, just facing me, on the spot, usually where I use to sit to write. It had a sad look, it seemed like, it wanted to tell me something, like bagging me, for a plea, each time I look at it.
I couldn’t bring a caged bird with me, on board the airplane, 5 years ago, when I returned home because, simply it’s insane, for, imagine having a cage bird inside the cabine, or put in the belly of the plane with the luggage, for 10 to 14 hours, it’ll be dead at the arrival. Secondo, not only its prohibited and a protected species, but with all hustle of authorised documents, and vaccines, and with the flu bird, forget it. I resigned one’s mind and gave the bird as a souvenir from me to cousin, then.
So I gave up after that on the breeding thing. And the very idea to have a pet bird.
I get inspired by two WordPress prompts, “Witness, and Last Call! commenting Boot camp.”
Here, with the same post below, that I posted 4 years ago, it was my fist blog, the story is:
It all started, more or less, like this_
Dear readers, يا اللاحبا ب ، و ىا لولاد , Chers amis , l'heure est grave, time is running out, El_Mackeen, The Goldfinch, the Elegant Chardoneret Parva est en voie de disparition, the bird is endangered, and in its way of disappearance, do you know that? Dear friends in Algeria , let's do it, let's make it happens! Let's make the first day of spring un event, let it be the day of El Mackneen
At first glance, five years ago, it’s looked like gibberish, for anyone who has stumbled upon my blog, accidentally, or in purpose, he got there by chance, looking for some kind of, a matter of inspiration, he might said, “what is this!”, and passed on in a click, to the next blog.
It looked like more an ad, or a slogan for some exotic stuff. Save on something!
or, take this! Last Call!! Commenting Boot camp Starts Monday! isn’t it?
_”Clicking the “Publish” button on a new post makes many of us nervous — me included! — but clicking “Post Comment” can be even harder. Putting yourself out there on your own blog is one thing; putting yourself out there in someone else’s space is another entirely.”_Michelle Weber
The truth is, it was my first blog. And I panicked, I clicked on the “publish” button , that is, not only because it was the first time I was blogging, but also, I am an old man, a species in its way of disappearing, like olds stuffs that technology, got on them, and disposed of their handmade tools, and skills, and replaced them by robotics, and computers consumables, then left them behind with heaps of obsolete, and useless items.
I was just trying to send a message then, I had read a Poem of Maya Angelou, “I know Why The Birds Sing.”
I know why The Caged Birds sing, ah me,
when his wing is bruised and his bosom sore
when he hit the bars, and would be free;
it is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his hearth’s deep core,
but a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings
I know why the caged bird sings_Maya Angelou
And it stuck me to the core of the morrow, when I read the verses of the poem,
” But a prayer that he sends from his hearth’s deep core,
but a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings.”
It’s whence I understood his long, and repeated plea, tweeting a prayer, that I enjoyed listing to, all times,without paying attention, while he was watching me all time, when I was writing. Suffice, that I had read this fabulous poet’s poem, it triggered in me, in a split of an eye-blink, a good vibes in my mind, it sent me way back to the 60ies; a tune of song from an Algerian singer, and song-writer, it was a plea for Freedom, that he wrote while he was in prison, it has for name the Goldfinch.
So now, I collect words, quotes, poems, and best crafted phrases, everything related to the Goldfinch , to breed sentences, to write a post and fling it in to a blog
Some decades ago, before I moved to the States, I was in Algiers, a ” Oiseleur”, a bird watcher, and a bird breeder, each year , at the begging of Spring season , there was lâcher of birds, a set free of birds that were bred a year before, for renewing the fona, and flora, and some species, birds like quails, pheasants, and the like, destined to populate the hunting sites, for the next season. But times change, and there was a bloody decades, where hunting was prohibited, then came lately,a decade ago, people craze for bird breeding, not only anarchic, but cruel, for greediness, pushed young people to chase the bird up to its natural habitat, plus the modernism, and urbanism of the countryside took over the landscape, and the green space usually devoted to camping and trekking ,and picnics in the immediate suburbs, for the cities dwellers, so as their disappearance caused a rush to far forests, and deep dwelling in the country in a quest for the Goldfinch. The reason is , when you breed the male bird with a canary female bird you have a mullet, wich is, the bird has no future generation; doesn’t lay eggs, It is sterile by nature. Moreover, when the nest is disturbed, the female abandoned the nestlings,so as it cause an immediate death, and diminution of the population, and by edge, idem for the species.
Today is St Patrick’s Day, and I enjoyed this Beautiful day, chance is, I had congratulations from WPress for my five years blog, it started with this very blog, that I remastered for the circumstance, which coincides with the celebrating the memorable day, the 255th of St Patrick day, and it’s like an omen, a good luck. That the blog is going viral.
Finally, a plea will be heard, tomorrow is the fist day of spring.